


Driving me Crazy, Keeping Me Sane

by lady_blackwell



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 07:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_blackwell/pseuds/lady_blackwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I tried to tell him I love him but it came out something like "We're both fucked up and it works."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driving me Crazy, Keeping Me Sane

Annie will never admit why she started sleeping with Jeff, but even to a half-sane person it’s pretty obvious why.

They’re both really fucked up.

She may be the goodie-two-shoes, but she’s slipped back to her pills. He’s a skeezebag ass who only uses her for sex, and to be honest, Annie likes it.

So when she’s back in Jeff’s bed at approximately two-forty-three on the Tuesday morning right before their Anthropology final going for their third round (his tongue finding her bellybutton, his shoulders and elbows wrenching apart her thighs and they both know what comes next) she just gets the sudden urge to have her voice burst through the lump in her throat with something other than the obligatory whimpers or moans.

Annie wants to say it.

God-fucking-damnit, she just wants to _say it_. But it’s sex and naturally her mouth and her brain are completely out of sync with each other and the only thing she can manage to fumble through her lips is his name, or fuck, or Jesus, or something other than _I love you_. And as they continue she can’t stop thinking about what she wants to say, or how she will, or if she’ll ever pluck up the courage to mouth the words, but she knows love isn’t why they do this night after night for weeks that starts off as one thing and ends up with her leaving his flat doing the walk of shame and trying not to cry.

It’s after they’ve finished, when Jeff’s yanking on his clothes on the floor and going on and on about something she couldn’t give two shits about and she’s sitting on his bed in nothing but her blouse and underwear and finally plucks up the courage to do it.

“Jeff?”

But of course the soft cadence of her voice can’t be heard over the rough cadence of whatever the fuck he’s going on about, and it takes her another three times before she just shouts his name and Jeff shuts up and turns around.

(Finally, _finally_ , he listens.)

When she tells him “it was nice, but I can’t do this anymore,” it’s all she can do to keep her composure, her sweetness, the personality that everyone attributes to the little Ivy League reject who wound up at Glendale and managed to outshine even the professors. Jeff nods his assent, continues to watch as she pulls on her clothes. He lets her go with a somewhat sad look on his face and words in his eyes that she can’t quite read, and the minute Annie steps out the door she can’t help but burst into tears.

The best worst thing that’s ever happened to her is over, ended by her own hand, and all she wants to do is rush back into his arms and his bed, let go of every ounce of logic in her and just let Jeff _take her_ back.

(The course of love, it never did run smooth.)  



End file.
